We’d ended up making out against the stack of towels until the party’s host—sounding very annoyed—started banging on all the doors in the hallway, telling people that the party was over and to either help him clean up or get the hell out.
“So,” Topher said, as I pushed myself off the table and tried to smooth my hair down. My lips felt puffy and I had a giddy, racing energy coursing through me. I’d just been kissed. I couldn’t wait to tell my friends. I wondered if I looked any different. I turned to him and saw he looked slightly nervous, like he was bracing himself for something. “This—I mean . . . this doesn’t have to mean anything, you know?”
I blinked, realizing that he was scared I would want to turn this into something—like I would expect him to be my boyfriend or something now. “No,” I said immediately. “Of course not.” I’d never had a real boyfriend, but I’d been watching Palmer and Tom for a month now, and even the idea of that kind of dependency on someone made me feel claustrophobic. “It was fun, though.”
Something washed over Topher’s face when I said that, like he’d just seen something that he recognized—relief mixed with the happiness of an unexpected discovery. “It was,” he said, giving me a smile, “so much better than being arrested.”
And now, three years later, here we still were. I played with the buttons on his shirt, thinking about it. “I kind of think maybe we should have refolded the towels.”
Topher laughed. “You know, I think it warped me. For months I couldn’t smell fabric softener without getting flashbacks.”
“So what are you doing this summer?” I asked, when I realized I didn’t know, and after the silence between us was starting to stretch on.
“Interning,” he said with a long sigh. “At my dad’s office. Fun times.”
“Oh,” I said, a little surprised. Topher’s dad was a litigator, and while there was nothing wrong with doing an internship with your parent, we both knew it wasn’t the best thing for your résumé.
“I know,” he said as he ran his hands over my shoulders, smoothing down the fabric of my sleeves. “But I was too late for the good stuff. I didn’t start applying until last month, and by then everything was gone. Internships, summer programs—even the volunteering slots had giant wait-lists.” He leaned away slightly, like he was trying to get a better look at me. “You took care of this back in March, didn’t you?”
I gave him a tiny shrug. “February,” I said, holding back what I really wanted to say, which was that Topher should have known better. You had to get this stuff locked down early. The good jobs and internships and summer programs, the ones that looked impressive on your applications, the ones that mattered—they went fast. “But I’m sure your dad’s office will be good,” I said, looking up at him, feeling beyond grateful, once again, that I was heading to Johns Hopkins and that this summer would be the furthest thing from a questionable gap on my résumé.
“I’ll let you know,” he said, tracing the outline of my lips with his thumb for a moment.
“Oh, yeah?” I asked, propping myself up on my elbow. “Are you going to write me a postcard or something?”
Topher smiled at this. “Every day,” he said, matching my tone.
I laughed at that and pushed myself off the couch. I left first this time, returning to the party and hoping that nobody could tell anything had happened, that I didn’t look different at all.
? ? ?
Three hours later, I yawned as I headed up the driveway to my house, Palmer waving to me out the window of the minivan. Bri had asked me if I wanted to sleep over at her place—Toby was, of course—but I’d said no, mostly because Bri’s evil, ancient cat, Miss Cupcakes, seemed to have some kind of feline vendetta against me.
I let myself in and walked across the foyer, turning off lights while running through my checklist in my head. I’d get ready for bed, go over my packing list for Young Scholars one more time, then—I heard a creak of the floorboards behind me and whirled around, my heart hammering.
There was nobody right behind me, but in the long hallway that led down to my dad’s study, I saw my father standing in the study’s doorway, peering out at me. “Andie?”
I let out a shaky breath and took a step closer to him, squinting in the darkness. The only light was coming from the room behind him, stretching out a long thin line against the floor. “Hi,” I called, holding one hand up in an awkward wave and then immediately dropping it again. Now, in hindsight, it seemed ridiculous that I was that startled to hear someone else in the house. But I’d honestly forgotten he was here.